School was only back for one week and already Harold Honeyman, the beloved principal of Cactus Flats Elementary, was holding a “behavior problem” conference with a student and his parents.
Honeyman could see the Turners waiting in his outer office with their surly, sullen, scab-picking sixth-grader, the notorious Turk Turner. Honeyman invited them in. “Have a seat.”
Turner elbowed his son, gestured at the “Be kind” poster behind Honeyman’s desk and snickered. “Tell me, Honeyman, has our little champ here been unkind to some crybaby here at this dump?”
“According to these reports your son has committed offenses which merit expulsion.”
Turk stopped fingering his left nostril long enough to mutter, “They’re all liars. Especially Assistant Principal Dominguez. Mexicans can’t be fair. He isn’t fit to judge me. He’s a hater.”
“Your son was observed mocking a disabled student reporter from our school newspaper.”
Mr. Turner scowled and waved it off. “It was a joke!”
“In science class he called our science teacher, Mr. Larry Jenkins, ‘lyin’ Larry’ and said global warming was a ‘stupid joke’. He called his female classmates ‘fat pigs’ and ‘dogs.’ He asked our receptionist if she was ‘bleeding out her wherever.’ He called our cafeteria worker, Mr. Alvarez, a ‘drug-dealing rapist who came here to steal votes.’ He called two students, Ali and Jasmine, ‘terrorists,’ and said he was banning ‘all Muslims’ from our campus.”
Mr. Honeyman ignored the high-five Mr. Turner slapped across his son’s raised hand.
“He referred to Maurice Washington, a second-grader, as ‘my African-American’. He encouraged Biff Barnes to beat up a third-grader because she called your son a ‘big stupid bully.’ One eyewitness said he told Barnes to, ‘punch her right in the face.’ Your son told Susie Shapiro, the granddaughter of a POW, that her late grandfather was no war hero because ‘only losers get caught.’ ”
“My boy is just telling it like it is.”
“And then there’s his performance, Mr. Turner. He doesn’t do homework. He refuses to read! He heckles the teachers. He doesn’t know the Constitution. He can’t find Ukraine on a globe. He’s incapable of uttering a complete coherent sentence. What do you have to say for yourself, Turk?”
“All I know, all I need to know, I learned from watching the foxes on Fox. They have some hot looking anchors, don’t they, pop?”
“Tens. Except for that Greta Van Susteren. My God, that face—”
Honeyman pointed sternly at the “Be kind” poster behind his head. Mr. Turner demurred and then sighed. ”So what, exactly, is the problem, Honeyman?”
“He started a ‘Titans for Trump’ club here on campus.”
“A club sounds great!”
“Thanks, pop. We’re going to make school great again. We’ve already got three members: ‘Cronk’ DiMaggio, Scooter ‘Gimme your lunch money’ Gilmore and Biff Barnes. We’re telling kids to support Trump — or else!” Turk smacked the open palm of his hand with his fist and grinned. “We’re gonna make school great again!”
Honeyman was speechless.
“Want to meet our sponsor? Donald Trump is right outside.” Turk Turner jumped out of his seat and dragged an imperious and irritated Trump into Honeyman’s office. Trump gestured at Honeyman to sit back down.
“You need a wall, Honeyman. Your school is not secure. It’s terrible. I hope you’re Second Amendment people, Honeyman. I hope you’re packing a semi-auto. And I mean that. What’s with your receptionist out front? Wow. She’s a definite 10. She is really something. Hotter than my daughter, Ivanka!”
Honeyman was still speechless.
“What? Too creepy? Nah. Tip of the iceberg. Hey, I noticed something about your dump, Honeyman. What’s with all the Latinos you got here on your campus? They got birth certificates? And what kind of name is Honeyman? That Kenyan?”
“Mr. Trump, about the boy’s club—”
“A phenomenal idea! Kid’s a genius. They’ll need shirts. Brown shirts would be nice.”
Honeyman repeated what he had just heard. “Brown shirts?”
Trump studied the wall behind Mr. Honeyman. “What’s with the poster? ‘Be Kind’? What kind of crap is that? That’s weak. Very weak. That’s what losers say. And our Mr. Turk here is a winner! Aren’t you, boy? He’s going to win so much he’s going to get sick of winning — believe you me. You doing your homework, Turk?”
“No, sir. Homework is for losers.”
“I love this kid!!”
Honeyman stood up. “Mr. and Mrs. Turner, we have standards for academic achievement, decency, and respect here at Cactus Flats Elementary. You’ve fallen short. We’re expelling you, Turk Turner. Leave this campus immediately. All of you.”
As Honeyman ushered the four of them out of his office Trump yelled.
“Way to rig the system, Honeyman! Crooked Honeyman! Crooked Honeyman! The system’s rigged!”
Honeyman lifted his walkie-talkie to his mouth and smiled. “Security.”
